


Morning Reflections

by mtn_dew_red



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa 3: The End of 希望ヶ峰学園 | The End of Kibougamine Gakuen | End of Hope's Peak High School, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Bisexual Hinata Hajime, Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Cute, Cute Ending, Declarations Of Love, Domestic Fluff, Falling In Love, Fluff, Gay Komaeda Nagito, Implied Sexual Content, Love, Love Confessions, M/M, No Angst, No Smut, No Spoilers, Sleeping Together, basically just hajime being in love, but hes sick anyways so, implied illness for nagito
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:48:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28095699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mtn_dew_red/pseuds/mtn_dew_red
Summary: The morning after, Hajime takes a moment to define exactly how he feels about Nagito, and admire him in the pale morning sunlight. All fluff.
Relationships: Hinata Hajime/Komaeda Nagito
Comments: 4
Kudos: 173





	Morning Reflections

Light is pooling in through the small cottage window, casting rectangles of warm orange sunlight over the white linen sheets on the bed on the center of the room. The rays fall on two twin bodies lying next to one another between the sheets, mere centimeters apart and facing one another, the thin sheets tousled and draping off of their bodies, presumably from the both of them moving about fitfully in their sleep. The air is warm, and so are they, and the gentle noise of the thinner of the two breathing against the neck of the other is so repetitive and soft that it’s even more calming than the waves that lie just beyond the sand outside, carrying in seashells and sand crabs with the waves and erasing the footprints of those that had trekked across the beach the day prior, taking the memory of their footsteps and their words spoken with the tide.

Hajime lifts a slightly tanned hand, skin having been kissed by the sun after so many afternoons spent with his friends on the beach, making castles or tossing handfuls of sand and water at each other in playful nature. He runs his fingers through the hair of the boy opposite him, sifting through his white, almost bleached-looking and tangled hair, softening some of the mess that has found itself on Komaeda’s head as he tossed and turned in his sleep. It wasn’t too far from his everyday hair, actually. He tended to keep it messy anyhow, even after brushing it out in the mornings. 

Taking a soft breath in through his nose, he takes a few moments to admire the boy opposite him, eyes flickering over the others features and drinking him in. His white lashes that fell so delicately on his pale, slightly freckled cheeks. His nose which turned up slightly at the end and would always scrunch when Hajime did something to put a smile on his face (which was usually just saying ‘hello’ to him every day, to tell the truth). His thin, pale lips that seemed to be in an almost perpetual frowning state unless given reason to be otherwise. 

His eyes cast downward, taking a quick glance at Nagito’s chest, in all of its soft, pale beauty. Komaeda was always so pale. Even with all the time the two of them had spent outside together, all his skin had done was freckle a bit on his nose and the apples of his cheeks. Though, Hajime supposes that’s simply because Nagito refused to wear anything except his large, green jacket every day. That thing was almost a security blanket to him. He never once has seen him without it. Well, except for times like this, of course. These times that are few and far between where Hajime gets the absolute pleasure of witnessing all of Komaeda. Every inch of him, in all of his pristine, fragile beauty. 

Green eyes travel along the dip in Komaeda’s chest, on his sternum. The little divots between his ribs that show just how pale the other really was under all the clothes he layered on during the daytime. They move even further down, admiring his flat, pale stomach that’s half swathed in the white linen of the sheets, which are tangled around him from the waist down, at least offering him some semblance of decency in the rather revealing position the two of them had wound up in after their night huddled up to one another, in a tangle of limbs and hushed words. Of bated breaths and warm, open-mouthed kisses. He can just barely see the indentations of Komaeda’s hip bones on either side of his lower stomach, just below his navel. The sight is enough to remind Hinata’s lips of just how it felt to kiss over the skin there, and instantly he finds himself longing to feel that particular part of the boy on his lips again. To worship him just as he had the night prior.

He looks back up now as Nagito shifts a little, brows furrowing as he pats the mattress next to him, presumably looking for Hajime beside him and becoming frustrated with the fact that he’s moved too far away for his liking. Immediately, Hajime shifts so that he’s chest to chest with the other, and Nagito wraps a pale, lanky arm around his frame and huddles into him, moving so that his face fits into the others neck and exhaling softly, drifting back off to sleep in a matter of seconds. 

The way that Komaeda is holding him, his hair tickling Hinata’s collarbones and his breath ghosting the sensitive skin of his lower jaw and just below his ear makes him grow impossibly weak in the knees. A swarm of butterflies rises up in the pit of his stomach, fluttering up through his chest and sending electricity up and down his spine. He shifts, and Nagito only holds him tighter, and for once hajime comes to one, crystal-clear realization: this must be what love means. 

This fluttering, warm feeling that’s spreading through his entire body as Nagito breathes softly into the juncture of his neck and his shoulder. This ache to have him on his lips, his skin, his hands, all of him until he feels so pleasantly numb that he can’t think anymore. The need for Nagito to be with no one else in the way that he’s with Hajime. To have him only get undressed for him, and to be the only one Nagito curls into after long nights spent whispering sweet nothings to each other between sheets. This must be what love is. It has to be. 

Then, almost as if on cue, Nagito stirs. He huffs out a breath, pulling back from Hajime just slightly to rub his eyes with the balls of his fists and groan lightly to himself. He looks sleepy, and yet Hinata swears he’s never seen a more beautiful human being in his life. Then he smiles, and the entire world zeroes in on one person. Only Nagito. He’s the only one to ever exist. He always will be. Hajime kisses his nose. “Hey.” He says, surprising himself in how deep and gravelly his voice is this morning. Komaeda gives him a smile. “Good morning, Hinata-kun.” He returns, tone echoing Hajime’s own, and for once, everything is okay. Even in the chaos of their everyday lives and the killing game, they’re okay. 

This will all be okay, Hajime thinks. Simply because he has Komaeda in his life to make it so.


End file.
